Triumph Rocket III: British Heavy Metal

The motorcycle bug is at me once again. Perhaps because I am beginning to smell retirement. Not quite there yet, but I can start to see it through the fog.

I've customarily owned a motorcycle the bulk of my life. I started young, when my father brought home an ancient ex-CHP Harley-Davidson 74 that, for whatever reason, he purchased when perhaps having had smoked too many cigars one day. I can still clearly recall that the bike had the throttle on the right bar-end, and a "spark retarder" on the left bar-end. Yes, the bike was that old. It also had a flat-metal coil spring right-side kick start which, if one didn't retard the spark quite correctly, possessed the ability to fling you bodily up and over the motorcycle itself. Which is precisely what occurred to my father one time. I can still clearly envision that huge, square oil reservoir on the right side behind the engine, and those miniscule drum brakes. Because we had a gravel driveway in the back accessing Dad's Shop, it also fell over on him at low speed a time or two. He sold it for -- wait for it -- a British MG-B with the horizontal wires in the doors to open the doors.

I used to sit on that huge black leather seat comprised of vast butt-acreage (to a young boy, at least) and see myself motoring down the road. Dad once, in fact, took me on a local ride atop the 74's gas tank, sitting in front of him. We had no helmets, of course. The wind really rustled by. I loved it.

Pat Green later had a mini-bike powered by a red colored Briggs & Stratton engine. We both crashed it numerous times in the field behind the house. You could ride your bicycle faster than it would go -- but it was a mini-bike so no one cared. It had an engine; that was the entire point.

Later, when my family moved to Ohio and Dad was assigned to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, I acquired a little 3-speed automatic Honda 50 mini-bike. We lived in Chatham Village on Harwich Drive. Dave Platten had his own red one, then Mike Vasiliadis got a larger, blue Honda 70 -- larger than mine. That was patently unfair. So, not to be undone, I purchased Terrell Allen's Honda 90 with the tank conversion kit, as the Honda 90 had a step-through (read: sissy) frame.

Just before leaving Ohio, I acquired a Yamaha 125 two-stroke with motocross handlebars. I can clearly recall buying a pair of Torsten Hallman riding gloves to wear whilst riding it.

After that, the bikes came cascading along. A series of Yamahas, a few Hondas, then my 1980 Yamaha XS1100 with matching Windjammer fairing, a 1984 Honda Magna and up to a gorgeous 1984 BMW R100RT in a shimmering silverish-blue. Heavy sigh.

I haven't had a bike for a number of years now, and the bug is at me again. I have my sights set on, thanks to Tim Frazier, a Triumph Rocket III, which possesses the largest engine in a current production motorcycle. A bit about the assembly of the average Rocket III by Triumph in England:

Already you can see: an uncommon motorcycle and not for the neophyte.

A few specifications: with a final shaft drive, the Rocket III weighs 703 pounds, produces 150 ft-lbs of torque and 145 hp at 2,500 rpm, 0 to 60 in three seconds, and has not only a low center of gravity but a low seat for those of us -- ahem -- who happen to be "inseam-ally"-challenged. As my doctor recently opined with a straight face, I am not overweight, I am simply under-tall.

I'm still in the pondering stage at this point, and haven't even thrown my leg over a Rocket III. Truthfully, I haven't been able to find one. And ideally, I'd care to focus more on the Rocket III Cruiser which appears to be more in tune with my potential usage, following retirement -- as I plan to scatter about with some of my fellow elderly ex-Sheriff reprobates, Silverbacks and current coppers on their metal steeds as well.

The Triumph Rocket III is, well, the embodiment of British Heavy Metal. And whilst we're at it, perhaps a taste of the original phraseology?

Any of you owners of various motors have any thoughts or opinionationisms?

BZ